Sacrifice
by Smoltwire
Summary: A lost and weary man who has given up on his dreams comes upon the living corpse of an old friend: Bartholomew Kuma.


**Title: **Sacrifice  
**Series: **One Piece  
**Summary: **An man encounters the 'living' corpse of a once good acquaintance, formerly known as Bartholomew Kuma.

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There is a fine line between technology and man that shouldn't be crossed.

As an estranged traveler to the Sabaody Archipelago, I had no place to go. At one time I was a wandering historian, aiming to understand and discover the history of the world. However, that time was over, and I was a weak, empty-pocketed man who ended up on an island full of subordinate civilians who avoided trouble at all costs. The people here bowed their heads to monsters who kidnapped woman and beat slaves. They averted there gaze as men were beaten to the pulp by rowdy pirates.

All in all, the Sabaody Archipelago was just like every island I had ever visited.

Until, that is, I found a cause. While wandering through the groves bare foot and hungry I came across a peculiar being deep into Grove 41. A righteous ship sat spotless upon the shore awaiting something, _someone, _to retrieve it. Whom this gallant ship was waiting for, I'll never really know. A crew, but what crew I can not say.

It was not the ship that caught my eye, but the giant sitting before it. His size was not nearly as impeccable or outrageous as a real giant's, but definitely bigger than the average man. Coil, gears, wires, and gizmos ripped from various limbs on his body. A robot, definitely, but the pooling blood and crusted wounds said otherwise. This great being, a Bible clutched tightly in his arm, was once a man; a man with a mission, a man with a dream, and a man with a soul.

A cyborg, I determined.

My approach was slow and cautious, but when he didn't react at all to my movement I made my way steadily to his side. The wounds, the scars, the _broken mechanics _made me cringe. With nothing to really lose if this giant became hostile, I ran my fingers across his limbs and touched the broken gears and gaping wounds. Cold, frighteningly frozen limbs danced across my fingertips.

I barely blinked as a hand, a fairly frightening hand, came to rush threateningly into my face as if it was going to strike me. I spluttered, falling on my ass like a common coward in the face of danger. I stared at the hand like it was going to devour me, crush me, and subsequently render me lifeless.

But, the hand dropped and returned to its original state of rest as if I was no threat at all.

I rose, finding my legs again, and stumbled right back to this giant. His clothes, his Bible, his whole state of being were familiar. A ghost of history waved over me and I gulped at the realization of his name.

"Bartholomew Kuma," I uttered his name as if lightening had shocked the life from me.

Underneath all the gashes and burnt machinery, I gathered his empty face and void expression. My memories lashed out as me and I choked on the tragedy I had come to know as Kuma. I knew many things, and many people, and ultimately I knew generally more on the Revolutionaries than the World Government would find even slightly admirable. Back when my dreams rode upon my back and when I held my head high, Kuma was respectable. He was human. He was a friend.

I was once a historian. I knew of the many unjust things that plagued the world and the cruel deeds the human race had committed.

Here before me was not a sin, but a cursed man who suffered both a vile and undeserved fate. A very distinct line, one between man and technology, had been crossed and he had suffered for it. I can say that I have met numerous cyborgs before in my travels, and I had seen the range of mentality they each retained. In the end, they all knew where that firm line in the earth sat, and knew full too well what would happen if they crossed it.

I'm positive that before the real Kuma passed on he knew very well where that line sat too.

Then why, why did a great man like him cross it? Why had this soldier of the undermined people let go of his humanity to become nothing but a machine of war? What could have possibly gone wrong?

There was no man left in this machine, no soul to keep the insane power and strength Kuma had retained in line. Back in the day, Kuma had been a valiant acquaintance, but now he was dead and I had lost a friend.

In the years since I last saw him, I wondered when exactly he had lost himself. Was it before or after the Great War at Marineford? I'll probably never know.

I was once a historian, but my dream died as I realized the true nature of the world and of its people. Kuma was not the first, and will certainly not be the last, to suffer such a cruel fate. I had learned that many times before.

And so, I wept upon this _mechanical _grave that bore wounds and injury but that didn't feel pain. I left the empty corpse of a great man to its self, wandering away back into the groves. Whatever its mission was now, it was both none of my business and something I did not desire to know. The corpse would stand guard, lifeless and cold before that heroic ship treading upon the waves.

The weak-minded people of this archipelago dawdled to themselves as I wandered the streets with a new sadness deep within my soul.

A strong man had died, empty and cold without a body and without a mind. He was a sacrifice for science; one that would most likely be in vain.

In the end, I hope it was worth it for him. I really do.

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**This was initially wrote on whim after reading the newest chapter to One Piece. I love Kuma as a character. The way he died was insanely cruel. He was losing his body and mind, and he knew it the entire time. It struck me in the soul to see that even in death he assisted the Strawhat pirates. This was meant to explore the feelings of those who once knew him, even if only as an acquaintance, and how it must have torn them to see him die such a cruel way.**

**Please read and review.**


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